Beauty/Beast/Binaries
It can be suggested that the structural binary of beauty/beast is best distilled in The Singing Ringing Tree, which is in itself a melting pot of various folk and fairy tales. Threads of The Winter Rose (248), The Singing Springing Lark (88) (of which the film title bears curious resemblance to) and Snow White and Rose Red (161) are found in the stories, accompanied by dramatic transfigurations of animals or beasts into perfectly charming royal suitors. Initial conflict is necessary, for in the genre of exaggerated fantasy, the ending is all the more extravagantly satisfying.
The Singing Ringing Tree is no exception, and its protagonist is immediately thrown into conflict. The Prince turns to tragic hero, and waits upon the reciprocity of the stubborn Princess as his only salvation back to a human-like form. In the film, his insistence upon laying claim to the princess is therefore easily forgiven by the pity we feel for him. Similarly in The Winter Rose and Beauty and the Beast, the deference of the Prince by his beast-like appearance is temporarily subverted by a “magical device” linked to the Prince that reveals his true inner-beauty. For The Singing Ringing Tree, that device is the tree itself, as is the Rose to The Winter Rose and Beauty and the Beast. Here, inner-beauty/outer-beauty cross pollinates: The beauty (of the Prince’s true form) is deferred within the plant, of which the female protagonist feels strongly attracted to. Hence it is not totally a symbolic reference to beautiful ladies and their affinity to beautiful apparatus, but also a hinting at the female’s intrinsic recognition of the Prince’s true inner beauty through his singular possession. In The Singing Ringing Tree, the role of the “rose” (or the tree) is used as a rhetorical double paradox, a hidden joke, since it is the ugly inward nature of the Princess that desires the plant for its magical (beauteous) properties, properties that are reflected in the prince but betrayed by his ugliness. However, the paradox is never really fully satisfied, because the tree’s magical properties are tied to the Princess’ true love for the Prince.
The beauty/beast binary also functions in the relationship between the Princess and the (transfigured) Prince, and only through the destruction of the paradox can the spell be broken. In other words, the beauty/beast paradigm has to be transcended: either outward beast overcome by inward beauty or outward beauty is overcome, revealed by inward beast. The latter is best personified by the princess who comes to recognise the true nature of inner-beauty when her inner and outer appearance are forced coexist in the same plane due to a nasty magic trick. In order for this visual or verbal play to be fully successful, the polarity of beauty/beast has to be stretched far enough to elicit an unsettling enough response in order to culminate in a satisfying closure.
In the case of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, we find ourselves one step closer to the blurring of beauty/beast boundaries, but not in the same way as The Singing Ringing Tree. Bearing closer resemblance to The Winter Rose and Beaumont’s Beauty and the Beast, Belle, the female protagonist, represents the ideal maiden, flawless and selfless to take the place of her father even in death, not unlike Grimm’s heroine in The Singing Springing Lark. However, aided by colourful cartoon theatrics and hum-along theme songs, the distance that separates notions of Beauty and Beast is diminished. Angst-ridden and thoroughly human, Disney’s careful graphics soften the harsh features of the Beast, making him a rather charming archetype of his own kind instead of a representational antithesis. The humanisation of the Beast inevitable dampens the initial shock the viewer has to endure between such incompatible extremes, thereby “romancing” the idea of diversity and the binary.
Conceptually, Beauty/Beast endures because it embraces the very kernel central to the novelty of the story. However, in contouring the film to make the Beast appeal to younger audiences (or to boost post-premiere sales of action figurines), the Beast fails to live up to its reputations. This casts a very solemn message, that from the start, Beauty and the Beast were meant to be together because they were made (or sketched) to be together. What this consequently affects is the reconciliation of the Beast with his true appearance, where inner-beauty reflects outer-beauty faithfully once more. Something of his new charm is lost in the destruction of the beast because his metamorphosis is not earned aesthetically. In fact, the child may just as well pine for the demise of the Beast in the metamorphosis of him into his human form.
Arguably, Dreamwork’s immensely popular movie Shrek threatens to offer a postmodernist reading of the classic Beauty/Beast binary, by completely doing away with it and embracing the possibilities beyond the established Fairy Tale meta-narratives previously embraced. It shamelessly flaunts its own pastiche, breaking down the page-barrier that divides separate fairy tales into a conjugate space that fills to encompass the wide-spectrum of well-known characters. Within ten minutes of a scene, recognisable characters such as the three blind mice, the three little pigs, the three bears… etc. fills the limits of the audience’s mind with their presence onscreen. Also, Shrek disables the fairy-tale-child boundary with brusque references that are cheekily adult. Phallic symbolism abounds everywhere not just as subtext but as a literal joke skirted about the corners. In one sequence, Shrek jokes that Farquhar’s ridiculously tall building was”compensating for something”. Later, excited by images of Princess Fiona, Lord Farquhar hastily checks beneath his blanket. Even well known anthems and tunes are thrown into this potpourri of a movie that seeks to deconstruct the bastions between popular culture.
The ultimate subversion of the Beauty/Beast binary occurs in a final twist involving Princess Fiona’s transfiguration, apparently into her beautiful self once again. However, upon recovering, Princess Fiona revives to discover her “beautiful self” was actually her form as an ogre. This disrupts the entire system of Beauty and its assumed conditions, whilst remaining faithful to the narrative structure of the fairy tale, one that espouses a “happy ending”. The whole “Beauty” system becomes incorporated into the structures of “Beast”, represented by Shrek and the image of the Ogre. Instead of eliminating the binary, Beauty/Beast’s incorporation into each other forms a third paradigm, one that is composed of both, yet even more satisfying that that of The Singing Ringing Tree. In the latter, the final transfiguration of the prince is anticipated, and is played right into the expectations of the viewer. In Shrek, however, anticipation is fulfilled by pulling the rug from under the viewer’s expectation. There is a reiteration of the initial shock of the Beauty/Beast combination, for now absolute beauty has been displaced by the film’s constructed notions of absolute Beast, but it immediately resolves itself because the original Beauty/Beast binary is not sustained. Rather, both characters are compatible for each other and true love transcends language games that build notions of beauty and ugliness: an ending truly satisfying for the viewer.
The Singing Ringing Tree is no exception, and its protagonist is immediately thrown into conflict. The Prince turns to tragic hero, and waits upon the reciprocity of the stubborn Princess as his only salvation back to a human-like form. In the film, his insistence upon laying claim to the princess is therefore easily forgiven by the pity we feel for him. Similarly in The Winter Rose and Beauty and the Beast, the deference of the Prince by his beast-like appearance is temporarily subverted by a “magical device” linked to the Prince that reveals his true inner-beauty. For The Singing Ringing Tree, that device is the tree itself, as is the Rose to The Winter Rose and Beauty and the Beast. Here, inner-beauty/outer-beauty cross pollinates: The beauty (of the Prince’s true form) is deferred within the plant, of which the female protagonist feels strongly attracted to. Hence it is not totally a symbolic reference to beautiful ladies and their affinity to beautiful apparatus, but also a hinting at the female’s intrinsic recognition of the Prince’s true inner beauty through his singular possession. In The Singing Ringing Tree, the role of the “rose” (or the tree) is used as a rhetorical double paradox, a hidden joke, since it is the ugly inward nature of the Princess that desires the plant for its magical (beauteous) properties, properties that are reflected in the prince but betrayed by his ugliness. However, the paradox is never really fully satisfied, because the tree’s magical properties are tied to the Princess’ true love for the Prince.
The beauty/beast binary also functions in the relationship between the Princess and the (transfigured) Prince, and only through the destruction of the paradox can the spell be broken. In other words, the beauty/beast paradigm has to be transcended: either outward beast overcome by inward beauty or outward beauty is overcome, revealed by inward beast. The latter is best personified by the princess who comes to recognise the true nature of inner-beauty when her inner and outer appearance are forced coexist in the same plane due to a nasty magic trick. In order for this visual or verbal play to be fully successful, the polarity of beauty/beast has to be stretched far enough to elicit an unsettling enough response in order to culminate in a satisfying closure.
In the case of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, we find ourselves one step closer to the blurring of beauty/beast boundaries, but not in the same way as The Singing Ringing Tree. Bearing closer resemblance to The Winter Rose and Beaumont’s Beauty and the Beast, Belle, the female protagonist, represents the ideal maiden, flawless and selfless to take the place of her father even in death, not unlike Grimm’s heroine in The Singing Springing Lark. However, aided by colourful cartoon theatrics and hum-along theme songs, the distance that separates notions of Beauty and Beast is diminished. Angst-ridden and thoroughly human, Disney’s careful graphics soften the harsh features of the Beast, making him a rather charming archetype of his own kind instead of a representational antithesis. The humanisation of the Beast inevitable dampens the initial shock the viewer has to endure between such incompatible extremes, thereby “romancing” the idea of diversity and the binary.
Conceptually, Beauty/Beast endures because it embraces the very kernel central to the novelty of the story. However, in contouring the film to make the Beast appeal to younger audiences (or to boost post-premiere sales of action figurines), the Beast fails to live up to its reputations. This casts a very solemn message, that from the start, Beauty and the Beast were meant to be together because they were made (or sketched) to be together. What this consequently affects is the reconciliation of the Beast with his true appearance, where inner-beauty reflects outer-beauty faithfully once more. Something of his new charm is lost in the destruction of the beast because his metamorphosis is not earned aesthetically. In fact, the child may just as well pine for the demise of the Beast in the metamorphosis of him into his human form.
Arguably, Dreamwork’s immensely popular movie Shrek threatens to offer a postmodernist reading of the classic Beauty/Beast binary, by completely doing away with it and embracing the possibilities beyond the established Fairy Tale meta-narratives previously embraced. It shamelessly flaunts its own pastiche, breaking down the page-barrier that divides separate fairy tales into a conjugate space that fills to encompass the wide-spectrum of well-known characters. Within ten minutes of a scene, recognisable characters such as the three blind mice, the three little pigs, the three bears… etc. fills the limits of the audience’s mind with their presence onscreen. Also, Shrek disables the fairy-tale-child boundary with brusque references that are cheekily adult. Phallic symbolism abounds everywhere not just as subtext but as a literal joke skirted about the corners. In one sequence, Shrek jokes that Farquhar’s ridiculously tall building was”compensating for something”. Later, excited by images of Princess Fiona, Lord Farquhar hastily checks beneath his blanket. Even well known anthems and tunes are thrown into this potpourri of a movie that seeks to deconstruct the bastions between popular culture.
The ultimate subversion of the Beauty/Beast binary occurs in a final twist involving Princess Fiona’s transfiguration, apparently into her beautiful self once again. However, upon recovering, Princess Fiona revives to discover her “beautiful self” was actually her form as an ogre. This disrupts the entire system of Beauty and its assumed conditions, whilst remaining faithful to the narrative structure of the fairy tale, one that espouses a “happy ending”. The whole “Beauty” system becomes incorporated into the structures of “Beast”, represented by Shrek and the image of the Ogre. Instead of eliminating the binary, Beauty/Beast’s incorporation into each other forms a third paradigm, one that is composed of both, yet even more satisfying that that of The Singing Ringing Tree. In the latter, the final transfiguration of the prince is anticipated, and is played right into the expectations of the viewer. In Shrek, however, anticipation is fulfilled by pulling the rug from under the viewer’s expectation. There is a reiteration of the initial shock of the Beauty/Beast combination, for now absolute beauty has been displaced by the film’s constructed notions of absolute Beast, but it immediately resolves itself because the original Beauty/Beast binary is not sustained. Rather, both characters are compatible for each other and true love transcends language games that build notions of beauty and ugliness: an ending truly satisfying for the viewer.
posted by HT, with T for Teh at 10:52 AM
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